


apolarity

by ymirjotunn



Series: the post-game arc where everybody has a life-changing field trip with kamukura [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Cofronting, Nonbinary Character, Other, Schizophrenia, multiple systems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 21:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11261241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ymirjotunn/pseuds/ymirjotunn
Summary: you can't sort life into a binary (circle one: good / bad ), but komaeda is still determined to try, even when a living contradiction is standing right there, doing times tables to keep themself from succumbing to the apparent inevitable crawl of entropy





	apolarity

**Author's Note:**

> hey everybody im schizophrenic and so is every dr character
> 
> a study on the impossibility of absolute polarity, although i guess chapter six already did that pretty well

“You should let him out,” Komaeda says. They are sprawled, face-down, limp-limbed, across the entirety of the library’s couch, their chin resting on the very edge of the arm. “It’d be interesting.”

 

“There’s so much wrong with what you just said that I shouldn’t even dignify it with a response.” Hinata flips through another book and files away the contents in his head: three hundred and eighty-six pages on learning the German language. At least the language section is more interesting than what the rest of the library has had to offer thus far, if only because it’s neat to see how many he can read now.

 

“Ah, but you will, won’t you, Hinata-kun?” Komaeda is smiling, peaceful, looking as always as though they know more than they do. “I would love to know what it is you have to say.”

 

Hinata has been looking through the books in here for a few hours. The island isn’t precisely the same as it was in the Program, this being the real world and all, and everyone’s been pooling their time and energy to figure out what resources they actually have. Well, mostly everyone. Komaeda has been doing a lot of lying around, generally in Hinata’s vicinity, wherever that happens to be. 

 

Not that Komaeda doesn’t have a reason to be lying around, and Hinata knows that Tsumiki hasn’t quite figured out their medication regimen yet, so he’s trying to cut them some slack, but they could at least read through some of the books, right? There’s stacks of them here. Maybe take notes. Hinata doesn’t  _ need _ them to take notes, but still. They’re not even bothering to pretend to care.

 

Kamukura laughs under their breath. What a ridiculous line of thought to pursue. What would be accomplished by Komaeda putting on a show? Hinata knows them too well to believe an act like that, and he doesn’t actually  _ need _ the help, anyway. If it’s just the two of them, there’s no reason to pretend. They both know what they’re in for.

 

...or, at least, they  _ thought _ Komaeda knew what they were in for, but saying something like that, they’re either poking for more information or they really have no idea what the situation is. Either way, Kamukura supposes, they’ll bite. It’s not as if this task is particularly interesting.

 

He slides the German book back into place and takes out the next (four hundred sixty-six on Dutch). “First of all, Kamukura isn’t a  _ he _ .”

 

“Oh, my mistake. I figured since--” To their credit, Komaeda pauses.

 

“They is fine.”

 

“I figured since they were you they’d be a he like you.” Komaeda is blinking up from the couch, watching Hinata with unnerving focus.

 

“They’re not me. Technically.” Oh, this one is interesting, a dictionary of hyougai kanji focusing on the most archaic. There’s several they don’t recognize. He files away this particular book for later reading. “They’re independent of me, but they’re still me, in a sense, and it’s the same head, anyways. Just different people. Kind of. Does that make sense?” They know it doesn’t. It hasn’t. Maybe it makes sense to Komaeda, though.

 

“Mm,” Komaeda says, infuriatingly neutral, voice slightly muffled by the couch.

 

Hinata doesn’t bother glancing over to them. “Your second mistake is in thinking that they’re--what, I don’t know, put away? Like we’re keeping them locked up.”

 

“What, aren’t you?” If Komaeda’s surprised by the use of  _ we _ , they don’t show it.

 

“No. Of course not.” Hinata is almost irritated. Nobody’s pressed this far into it, and he doesn’t -- they don’t mind, neither of them mind, both of them don’t mind, and they’ve  _ been _ prepared to have this discussion with someone, had even anticipated that it would be Komaeda before anyone else, and yet for some reason something about this situation still grates. “Even if we could, why would we?”

 

“Are they out right now?” Komaeda sounds almost surprised, although when Hinata checks they still have that faintly neutral smile on their face.

 

“They’re always  _ out _ .” Now he’s getting into the English language texts. There are a lot of these. “It’s just a matter of who...I don’t know. Is talking?”

 

“Okay. So I’ll revise my request,” Komaeda says, and rolls over, propping their head on the arm of the couch again so they can look directly up at Hinata on his ladder, so far up that Hinata imagines their eyes must ache from the strain. “Let them talk to me.”

 

“Why bother?” And Hinata doesn’t bother to keep the obvious Kamukura out of their voice, disinterested and bordering on annoyed. Maybe that’s a mistake, they’re not sure yet, but they’ll probably find out, and that’s what makes this fun.

 

Komaeda freezes in place in a way that’s just barely noticeable, but Kamukura can see the way their muscles have gone taut.

 

They put the book back in its place, and let the scales tip.

 

“I’m not being hypothetical,” they say, sitting delicately atop one rung on the ladder, crossing their legs and arms. “Why bother, Komaeda-san? Do you have something to offer, or is it just morbid curiosity?”

 

“Are you them?” Komaeda says. Their eyes have gone almost half-lidded.

 

“You haven’t been listening,” Kamukura says, distasteful. “We haven’t been sliced neatly in half. It isn’t a choice between Hinata-san or Kamukura-san. It’s merely a choice between whose voice is more prominent.”

 

“You’ll have to bear with me,” Komaeda says. “This is all very complicated, and I lack the talent you do, so--”

 

“Shut up,” Hinata says, sharp. “You’re being insincere. I dislike it.”

 

“Ah.” Komaeda’s eyes flutter shut completely. “All right. You’d prefer me to be direct.”

 

“What is it you want, Komaeda-san?”

 

Eyes still shut, Komaeda clasps their hands over their chest, smiles bright. “To talk to you, of course. Is that so strange?”

 

“You’re always talking to me.” It’s much easier to feel the irritation when it’s mostly Kamukura, maybe because Hinata likes to tuck it away and Kamukura just doesn’t bother, but it’s more than just the irritation with Komaeda, it’s also that familiar  _ itch _ , the need to-- _ ugh _ , to  _ do _ something, to do  _ something _ , so they pull out that book on hyougaiji again. It’s annoying to have to use this up so quickly. They’d hoped it could remain at their disposal for some other time.

 

“I’m always talking to Hinata-kun.” Komaeda’s clasped hands tighten. “I didn’t know you were there.”

 

“Oh?” The pages pass too quickly. Their hands are shaking. They close the book. “Would you have spoken differently if you had known?” And the unspoken  _ will you _ ?

 

A breath, and then, “Would you like me to?”

 

Kamukura pauses, stares down at Komaeda on the couch, assesses, memorizes. People are more complicated than pages, take more time, take more memory, take more processing. They are built of millions of parts and billions of cells and every single one works in tandem, or somewhat in tandem depending on the body, on the presence of illness or injury. Komaeda’s body, like their brain, is messy, and disjointed. It is interesting for that.

 

Hinata dislikes that thought, thinks it sounds too much as if it’s Komaeda’s illnesses alone that make them compelling, but that’s not what the thought is, and anyway it’s a thought the two of them share, that Komaeda is the kind of puzzle they can’t tear away from. They put the book back again.

 

“You want to know what I want?” A purposeful singular  _ I _ . Komaeda is in the right state of mind for it to make a difference.

 

“Yes!” Komaeda is almost breathless. “Yes, yes, please.”

 

Kamukura unfolds their limbs, neatly and carefully, and jumps, landing light on both feet with flawless balance. “I want you to stop pretending you know what we are.”

 

They take a step closer, watching Komaeda’s eyes jolt open, and say, “You have no idea, do you, Komaeda-san?”

 

The hands clasped on their chest have gone tight, whiter at the knuckles than they were before. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kamukura-san.”

 

“You’re smart,” Hinata says, taps Komaeda’s forehead with two fingers and lets them rest there. “So let yourself be.”

 

Komaeda is silent, completely still, eyes trained on Kamukura’s fingers.

 

“Hinata-san has the patience to deal with you dancing around yourself,” they say. “I don’t. If you’re going to be boring, don’t waste  _ my _ time with it.” They drop their hand to the side and it’s like Komaeda’s been released from a weight, the way they exhale.

 

They turn away, towards the bookcases again. “And Komaeda-san?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Stop trying to summon me like I’m some sort of demon.”

 

“Aren’t you, though?” Komaeda says tonelessly.

 

There are more books to categorize. Hinata grits their teeth. It was a boring task anyways. Yes, but it was a task, it was something they had to--ugh. “You’re better than this.”

 

“Oh, but I’m  _ not _ ,” Komaeda says, sounding as though they are mourning. It’s whiplash, their tone is, from blank to dramatic in less than six seconds.

 

Hinata wants to pace, still doesn’t quite know what to do with the itch, but Kamukura keeps them still, guides their thoughts towards something rote and complicated. Two hundred thirty-seven times one is two hundred thirty-seven. Two hundred thirty-seven times two is four hundred seventy-four. Two hundred thirty-seven times three is seven hundred eleven. It’s enough. “I’ve already said, Komaeda-san, I’m not interested in your performance.”

 

“You’re still talking to me.”

 

“We’re drawing from Hinata-san’s patience, for your sake.”

 

“How sweet of Hinata-kun to wait around for me,” Komaeda says in nearly a drawl.

 

“We have work to do, you know.”

 

“I apologize,” Komaeda says, tone collapsing into mournful again. “Is my burden a presence, Kamukura-san?” They pause, and laugh, full-bodied. “Oops! My presence a burden, is what I mean, but I’m sure you knew that. Were you going to do your work?”

 

“You’re not a bad person, you know,” Hinata says, abrupt, before he can stop himself. “I mean, you  _ do  _ know that. You wouldn’t have come out of there if you believed through and through that you had absolutely no chance of redemption.”

 

Komaeda laughs again. “We weren’t even talking about that, Hinata-kun.”

 

“You don’t talk about what you think about.” Two hundred thirty-seven times eighty-nine is twenty one thousand and ninety-three. Two hundred thirty-seven times ninety is twenty one thousand three hundred and thirty. Hinata wants to move their hands, or something, but their whole body is frozen. This is an inconvenience new to him but not to Kamukura, who approximates an apology.

 

“And you do?” Verging on toneless again, but closer to accusatory.

 

Kamukura grasps at the victory. “There, see. You’re interesting when you’re being genuine.”

 

“Oh,” and Komaeda sounds almost disappointed. “That would have made Hinata all prickly and cold, once upon a time.”

 

Hinata manages to curl their fingers inward, feels the muscles creak, remembers what it feels like to move and lets that memory diffuse through their whole body. It’ll only be a moment now. “Like I was saying, you’re not a bad person. You can punish yourself all you want, but it’s useless.”

 

“Hardly useless, Hinata-kun!” There’s rustling from behind, which Kamukura assesses is just Komaeda laying their hands by their sides. “People are multifaceted, and I am no exception, and your  _ ceaseless _ optimism does not change the fact that each of my facets is more hopeless than the last.”

 

“I didn’t say you were a  _ good _ person,” Hinata says. They have managed to take a step forward, closer to the ladder.

 

There is more rustling from behind, and a huff of annoyance, and then, “Neither of--” A sharp pause, like the words have just been cut away.

 

“Neither are accurate, yes.” Another step and they are close enough to reach out to the ladder, resting a hand on one of the rungs. “What was it you called yourself? Multifaceted?”

 

Silence, and Hinata has felt fairly victorious several times in the past few weeks but rarely as strongly as he does right now, and then Komaeda says, “You know, you were much more tolerable when we were asleep.”

 

Kamukura doesn’t really grin, so Hinata does for them, and they say, “Oh, my apologies, Komaeda-san. Should I let Hinata-san out instead?”

 

Komaeda is not easy company, but none of them are looking for  _ easy _ .


End file.
